Category: Ellen Page

After falling on the stairs at the 2013 Academy Awards and bailing on the red carpet at the 2014 Academy Awards, I just assumed Jennifer Lawrence was planning on saving her next “Whoopsies, how endearing of me!” choreographed stunt fall for the 2015 Academy Awards. Instead, The Daily Mail says she fast-tracked things a bit by tripping up the stairs at the New York premiere of X-Men: Days of Future Past on Sunday night. Although, this one might not technically count, because they say it wasn’t a full-on shit-eating fall; it was more like a fall that never materialized because too many people threw out their arms to prevent America’s Sexiest Keeper of the Real from taking a tumble. It was the pre-cum of falling, really.

I know I throw a lot of shade at Jennifer Lawrence for being one of the hardest working tricks in the try-hard game, but I honestly believe this stumble up the stairs wasn’t planned. That velveteen dress she’s wearing is giving me serious flashbacks to the year 2000, and in case you forgot about the year everyone was stuffing themselves into cheap velveteen, that shit wasn’t a very forgiving fabric. It stretched when it wanted to and if your skirt/dress was long enough, it always found a way to wrap itself around the heel of your platform Mary Janes and throw your ass at the worst of times. It’s not JLaw’s fault she almost fell again; it was that vengeful bitch velveteen’s fault!

Here’s more of Jennifer Lawrence at the X-Men: Back to the Future Past premiere on Sunday night, along with Hugh Jackman, who also threw back to the year 2000 by wearing a band-aid on his face as an homage to Nelly (not really; it’s because he had some skin cancer removed), JLaw’s About A Hottie boyfriend Nicholas Hoult, Ellen Page looking like a young Jesus going to his bar mitzvah, and Fan Bingbing, who not only brings the glamour EVERY TIME, but also has the hottest name:

Usually Christina Hendricks uses scaffolding, two tire jacks and five rolls of duct tape to hike her magnificent chichis all the way past her face until they’re touching her eyebrows. But at Vanity Fair’s Oscar party last night, her Mount Everest titty balls weren’t suffocating and they weren’t touching God’s feet and hos probably said to her, “So that’s what your face looks like, bitch!”

Christina Hendricks’ chichi domes look magnificent when they’re squeezed up to the roof of heaven or when they look like two extra large mounds of uncooked sourdough cooling on a rack (see: above), but what in Mrs. Roper’s cleaning dress HELL is that on her body?! When I was in the 4th grade, I had a friend whose mom didn’t have money to buy her a Halloween costume, so I helped her make a witch costume using a nun’s gown I wore the year before (yes, I was a nun for Halloween in the 3rd grade, don’t ask how much shit I got for that), a black curtain panel from Ikea and black construction paper. My friend’s costume cost zero dollars, was busted as fuck and was made by two brats whose hands were shaking from eating too much candy and it still looked more luxurious and fashion forward than that shit Christina wore. That dress looks like something Endora would wear to the funeral of a whore she hated. It looks like something from the American Horror Story: Coven collection at Dress Barn.

With all that being said, Christina Hendricks, hausfrau in mourning dress and all, was still the hottest look at that VF party (no, it wasn’t), because mostly everybody else (just Kate Beckinsale) looked like the last place loser at the Miss Bolivia 1993 pageant.

Okay, yeah, sure we all knew that Ellen Page scissored until her crotch pubes burnt off and you’re probably looking at me like, “Tell me something about Juno, I don’t know, bitch,” but she officially came out at the HRC’s Time to THRIVE conference in Las Vegas tonight. Ellen announced in front of everyone that yeah, she likes cooch, and I think I squirted out a dry tear while reading her coming out speech:

“I’m here today because I am gay. And because maybe I can make a difference. To help others have an easier and more hopeful time. Regardless, for me, I feel a personal obligation and a social responsibility. It’s weird because here I am, an actress, representing — at least in some sense — an industry that places crushing standards on all of us. Not just young people, but everyone. Standards of beauty. Of a good life. Of success. Standards that, I hate to admit, have affected me.

You have ideas planted in your head, thoughts you never had before, that tell you how you have to act, how you have to dress and who you have to be. I have been trying to push back, to be authentic, to follow my heart, but it can be hard.”

A few seconds after, official President of the Gayelle Union, Rojo Calience, ran up with a welcome basket full of Home Depot gift cards, wooden ducks and flannel shirts. Happy Valentine’s Day to us all! Let’s all celebrate Ellen Page’s coming out by eating some cooch! You go first.

UPDATE: And here’s the video of Juno’s speech, which made the mound of ten-week-old burnt up barbecue charcoal in my chest actually feel something.

If Ellen’s hockey watching partner ASkars should feel the need to say something about this good news, can he please attach a new topless hi-res picture of himself to his statement? Because the AskarsNipples folder on my desktop really needs an update.

Even after all the “double bearding” blind items, the pictures of them at a Stanley Cup finals game and the pictures of them cuddling at a premiere, I never believed that either Alexander Skarsgard and Ellen Page were a real couple or that publicists were trying to pass them off as a real couple, but apparently it’s happening. That’s what the Daily Mail says, anyway. For those of you hoping that now that Kristen Stewart is single she’s going to bump greasy hipster ‘ginas with Ellen Page, keep hoping. It’s not going to happen anytime soon.

The Daily Mail says that ASkars and Ellen have been dating for about a year and this past weekend the director of their movie The East, Zal Batmanglij,tweeted a picture of them “looking more in love than ever” while hanging out in a park in San Francisco. The “looking more in love than ever” words came from the Daily Mail. To me, it looks more like a father is kissing his trucker toddler daughter goodbye before she has to go out and make deliveries in her rideable Tonka Truck.

That picture still doesn’t really prove anything and I’m waiting for Zal Batmanglij to tell us what’s really going on. A man with the word “Batman” in his last would never ever lie to us.

And if Ellen Page really is using suction cups to climb a naked Mt. ASkars to suck on his face, then I really, really need to update the “lesbian detector” app on my Gaydar. If they are doing it for real and this just isn’t some stunt to promote their movie, what should their couple name be? AgeSkar? ElleXa? No, their couple name should definitely be WhatTheFuck.

A couple of months ago, there was a blind item about a gayelle movie actress and a gay mostly-TV actor who were going to start double bearding for each other and most hos guessed that it was about Ellen Page and ASkars. It took 6 firefighters, 1 crane, 1 low-flying helicopter, 10 gallons of salt water, 12 taser guns and a pack of wild pit bulls to pull me off of my chair, because my b-hole puckered so much that I got stuck to my seat after thinking about the possibility of ASkars being a full-time gay.

But then this annoying thing called “common sense” took over and I realized that ASkars probably doesn’t have a natural craving for peen. Then I wondered what kind of publicist thinks Ellen Page and ASkars make a believable couple? Yes, they’re more believable as a heterosexual couple than Michele and Marcus Bachmann are, but so is a pink unicorn and a flannel-wearing beaver. Just look at these pictures of them “canoodling” at the premiere of their new movie The East in L.A. last night.

She looks like she’s tugging at her daddy’s jacket, because she wants him to buy her a Pink Panther ice pop from that ice cream truck over there and he’s looking at her and thinking to myself, “I’ve ejaculated things that are bigger than you.”

They so wouldn’t work as a believable couple. ASkars and that hot bitch Patricia Clarkson on the other hand….

The Independent Spirit Awards did what the Oscars failed to do: give respect to Matthew McConaughey’s rock hard ass cutlets. At yesterday’s Independent Spirit Awards in Santa Monica, the Texas T-Rex won Best Supporting Actor for popping his bulge in a Speedo and throwing his charbroiled nalgas up in the air in Magic Mike. While accepting his award Matthew, who is still looking a lollipop-headed giraffe, let every actor know that if they want to win an Independent Spirit Award next year, they have to take all them panties off:

“I had to take my pants off to win a trophy, I had to drop trou to win an award. Fuck yeah!”

Sadly, the Independent Spirit Awards didn’t honor the OTHER great performance of the year: Nicole Kidman’s piss hole for letting out a Botox-infused pee stream on Zac Efron’s body in The Paperboy.

The reboot of Jerry Maguire called Silver Linings Playbook pretty much swept that shit last night and picked up a bunch of trophies. Here’s the list of winners:

And here’s a few pictures for you to put your eyes on. In order: Texas T-Rex with Camila Alves, Bradley Cooper (and yes, I stared at his baggy camel toe for at least an hour straight), Bryan Cranston, Laura Dern, Salma Hayek with her billionaire husband, Helen Hunt, Jennifer Lawrence, the new Jodie Foster, Aubrey Plaza, DanRad, new daddy Jeremy Renner (who let everyone know that the musky scent was coming from his crotch), Zoe Saldana, Andy Samberg with Joanna Newsom, the new Annie and Kerry Washington.

If you put your hand over Ellen Page, you’d sort of know what it would look like if you got to frisk ASkars. How Ellen Page kept herself from tickling ASkars’ armpits with her hat’s lips is beyond me. And yes, that grown man in the bottom right is totally Stefan-ing out of his mind, because he can’t believe the Swedish essence of ASkar pits is blowing his way.

The oddest pairing since Kunty Karl and Choupette went to a Stanley Cup finals game at the Staples Center in L.A. yesterday and some are saying this means that Ellen is doing a sexy single bar gymnastics routine on ASkars’ peen when the lights go down. Please. It’s true that if you polled the planet’s population, including inanimate objects, on whether or not they’d let ASkars stick the tip in, 99% would grab the butt lube and you ask where the line for that ride begins. When ASkars struts by a rock, the rock finds a way to grow a vagina so he can fuck it. Everybody wants to hump ASkars. But not Ellen Page. I mean, my common sense gene is preventing me from picturing that. They’re just two beautiful lesbians who like to watch sports together. That’s all.

They also did a movie together and I hope it went so well that they work together again in a movie version of the adventures of the Jolly Green Giant and Little Sprout. Because I want to see that.

It’s one of those slow ass Sundays where you just want to gaze at the bong smoke trickling out of your mouth until it turns into the profile of Bob Marley and disappears (this happens to me every time), but why don’t you take a break from that shit and watch Ellen Page juggle fruits for a few seconds instead. One way of stomping out the gayelle rumors is to show off your ball handling skills. I guess.